The
Rise of Vox the Outcast III:
The
Salkoriam Priestess had known she was trouble as soon as she
realized the girl was headed her way.
Over
the last few years that thought was only confirmed and not just that,
it had grown into a cloud that now loomed over the lands, as the dark
promise of what was to come.
She
should have done something.
She
should have given up her much beloved tranquility in the happenings
of the world, and rid it of this wicked thing, like a bud nipped from
a rose.
For
wicked she was, from her cruel, glaring eyes to the barbed organ she
dared call her heart.
She
had summoned the poor creatures of the Wastes to do her bidding and
keep the Priestess obedient.
She
had had no choice; the world was set to burn, had she not
begrudgingly taught this vile being the ways of her trade. Damned if
she did, damned if she didn't.
That
was what the girl had been after; to learn how to conjure, how to
call forth those enigmas that lived in between light and darkness,
how to use them for her own gain.
And it hadn't stopped there.
And it hadn't stopped there.
She
had known about her deepest secret, the craft of necromancy.
She
intended to steal away the souls of those who'd passed and increase
her already unnatural strength.
She
wanted power because she didn't know that power brought no happiness.
How
had it come to this?
2 comments:
This image is genuinely creepy. The twisted arms, the demented smile, the ripped up dress... really excellent work.
Thank you kindly :)
It's based on a mother in the supermarket with a wailing toddler, I imagine in her mind she was pulling a face like that :P
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